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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764435">A Pearl</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintylyme/pseuds/mintylyme'>mintylyme</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abusive Relationships, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Hurt GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inspired by a Mitski Song, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Men Crying, Past Abuse, Sad, Sad GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Song Lyrics, Suicidal Thoughts, Title from a Mitski Song, Touch-Starved GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Trauma, Your city gave me asthma, dreamnotfound, dreamnotnap, idk help me choose, some things can be reader interpreted, vent fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:21:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,036</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764435</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintylyme/pseuds/mintylyme</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>George doesn't feel well. He feels like he's constantly weighing his friends down and inconveniencing them. Dream only confirms that he is.</p><p> </p><p>-<br/>Please read this I promise the summary is just shit the fic is okay.<br/>Inspired by A Pearl by Mitski </p><p>pls read notes</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexis | Quackity &amp; GeorgeNotFound, Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound &amp; Darryl Noveschosch, GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound &amp; Wilbur Soot, GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>492</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Francis Forever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hiii! </p><p>Just so the reader knows, some things are up to the readers interpretation and you can leave your interpretations in the comments!!</p><p>ALSO: Should I turn this into a DreamNotFound or DreamNotNap fic or an unhappy ending? Let me know &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> You’re growing tired of me.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>George’s brows furrowed in irritation, why was Dream so fucking pissy today? They were- He was speedrunning, with Dream in the Teamspeak. He was open to whatever Dream wanted when the blonde suggested doing something else on Minecraft. </p><p> </p><p>“Dream.”</p><p> </p><p>“What.”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean <em>what</em>? What do you want to do?” </p><p> </p><p>“Let’s do something else.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay…, but what?” George leaned back in his chair, his signature hoodie was warm where the sleeves stayed put on his arms, his hands were so fucking cold. His chest felt hollow, and his stare was blank, looking straight at the game as he tried to seem focused on what he was doing. He wanted to appear patient, yet inside, his patience was dissipating. He pressed his cold hand to his flushed face, he hoped his facade wouldn’t fade away. There was that lingering feeling of wanting to cry but he didn’t want his viewers or Dream to see him in the vulnerable state he was actually in. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, George, anything!” He seemed irritated, George winced at his tone. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry. Do you want to go on the SMP or the MCC server or something… I don’t know, sorry,” George fretted. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh my god, you are so <em> fucking boring. </em>” </p><p> </p><p>There was just silence and George’s blank face.</p><p> </p><p>George kept speedrunning. He was in the nether,  he was running around, looking for piglin to trade with. He found one close to the edge of a cliff, but as soon as he got to it he was instantly shot off by another piglin. He let out an aggravated sigh as he rested his chin on the palm of his hand. He slid his mouse to his other monitor, muting himself in the Teamspeak. He didn’t care if Dream said anything, he was too embarrassed to speak to him. He was too embarrassed to even glance at the chat. The game flashed on the screen as he left the current world he was in, he needed at least another thirty minutes. He needed at least thirty more minutes and he could log off and let himself crumble. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright, let me restart my timer and we can go again,” George said to his stream. He was going to do one last run. It didn’t matter what seed he got, he could just stretch out the time of the run and be done. He could easily distract his fans by interacting with them. “I’ll try to read chat so if you have any questions, please write them in the chat, and while you’re here, drop a follow.” </p><p> </p><p>“George I love you, I hope you and Dream are doing well, anyway, do you ship Dreamnap?” The text to speech rang as George forced a loving chuckle partnered with a smile,</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I do, who wouldn’t?” Guilt tugged at the feeling in his chest, he wasn’t necessarily misleading his fans, he would never admit to any kind of feelings that bubbled in his chest. He slowly left the village he was raiding for supplies and walked to find a lava pool. He hoped Dream had left, he hoped he wasn’t watching his stream. His legs started to shake and the tremors quickly spread to his hands and the rest of his body. The anxiety made it hard for him to start talking as he read through the chat, walking across a desert in Minecraft. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re so pale, do you ever go outside LOL? Any truers?” The text to speech sounded languid to his ears. The chat spammed “TRUEE.” George tried to scoff, going along with the joke, yet his voice was weak and quiet.</p><p> </p><p>“Well I don’t go out so often, we’re in the middle of a global pandemic. Have you ever thought of that?” He chided, lightly. He found a little river and filled his water bucket, swimming through the small body of water, continuing the search for a lava pool. He glanced at streamlabs, reading the chat. </p><p> </p><p>“George, have you ever tried losing weight? You seem like the type of person to need it, I recommend fasting, also could you please check my Twitter out? :D,” <em> colon d </em>the text to speech readout, painfully. He wasn’t expecting that to hit him so hard, he quickly acted as if he was distracted reading chat. He wanted to say that the jab at his appearance didn’t hurt, but he could only act like he didn’t mind. </p><p> </p><p>“Huh? Uhh sure, I’ll try it out and I’ll check out your Twitter after stream.” He opened a chrome tab and typed their user in the search bar, to look at later. <em> You are so fucking boring </em>. He really hoped Dream had left the call by now, his tolerance was wearing thin, he just wanted the stream to be over. Thankfully, he found a lava pool and focused on building the portal to avoid looking at chat. His head ached a little, he was tired, he wanted to sleep until everyone forgot about him. That would be best for his friends. Could he even call Dream a friend? George was an inconvenience to him, clearly. Dream probably only stayed around because he and Sapnap felt pity for him. George wanted to actually drown and not just in his head. Life would be so much better if he just stopped breathing, those he had loved before made that clear to him. He almost jumped when he heard Dream sigh in his left ear, the text to speech following immediately after,</p><p> </p><p>“What’s your favourite song from YCGMA by Wilbur and which one do you relate to the most? Also, could you say I love you Julie?” Even as the donation played, he couldn’t stop thinking. Did Dream really not like him? What’d he do wrong? He thought things were going well.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you, Julie! Hmm, my favourites are Saline Solution and Your Sister was Right but the song I guess I relate to the most is La Jolla and Jubilee Line. Wilbur’s music is really good,” George’s reply was honest, which was unusual but thoughtful. His chat immediately started spamming ‘WILBUH’ to insult him. “Guys! Stop making fun of my accent! How do <em> you </em> say it? <em> Wilburr </em>?” He scoffed as he lit his nether portal and went through it. He filled his hunger with some bread from the village and immediately went on the search for a fortress. </p><p> </p><p>“Hi George, can you say hi to Kylie and Alex? Also, when are you going to meet with Sapnap and Dream?” George nervously glanced to his second monitor, unsure of what to say.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi Kylie and Alex, umm I’m not sure if we’re going to meet up. We can’t really right now because of Covid. Like, I’d go but it’s just not safe, y’know. I don’t know if they’d wanna meet up, though.” He was exhausted at this point, he just wanted to end stream. He kept going, he finally found the nether fortress and began to tower up it. He finally reached twenty-five minutes into the stream, he just needed to die somehow in Minecraft. It took him five minutes to fight the blazes without a shield. He almost died a few times and had to run away, yet he collected nine rods in the end. He just had to get ender pearls, and then he could leave the nether. A donation notification pinged, </p><p> </p><p>“You’re ugly lol,” god, he was tired. He was tired of feeling hurt, but he couldn’t help the way his chest panged and his face grimaced slightly at the comment. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s not very nice,” he remarked. He turned back to the game to mine gold for piglins while still near the fortress. He checked his second monitor. It was a bit refreshing to see everyone asking if he was okay. George’s cold hands shook harder when he realized his fans were just being nice, they probably didn’t care about him personally. He let out a small “I’m fine,” as he tried to focus on the screen. He was trying to trade with a piglin when a blaze shot at him and knocked him into the lava, killing him and burning his stuff. He let out a small sigh and rested his chin on his trembling hand as he looked to his chat again. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay, well I think I’m going to end stream here,” it could finally be over, “thank you guys for coming and maybe leave a follow, aha, bye.” He ended his stream, he quit streamlabs. It was over, he wanted to be relieved but he was <em> so </em>tired. He let out a small sniffle as tears pooled in his eyes, he quickly realized he was still in a call with Dream and rushed to leave the teamspeak. He completely shut off his computer as the weight of everything slowly settled into his shoulders and his bones. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You’re growing tired of me.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> You’re so fucking boring </em> , is what Dream said. Was that what was wrong with him? He pulled his knees to his chest, letting out a small sob as he squeezed his eyes shut. Was that what his lovers had thought, too? He felt small, inconvenient. In the past, they convinced him he was worthless. He knows he is. It must’ve been too bold, too selfish to think Dream at least liked him as a friend. Sapnap probably felt the same way. He felt so guilty, so embarrassed that he's wasted so much of the two’s time. He felt bad for Bad and the others, too. All he could think about was all of the inconveniences he’s put them through, he clutched at his head and buried his face into his knees, pitifully. He wanted somebody to care for him the way he loved them all. He minimally had Quackity, Alex had been recently clinging to him, but he knew better. It would pass and he would let go of George and never hold on again. He would be abandoned soon enough, it was on him to let go and stop being clingy. George was annoying, George was inconvenient. It was his own fault, so why did it hurt so badly? His tears wet the knees of his sweat pants, his eyes stung. All he wanted was to hold his arms out, to Dream, to Sapnap, to his mom, to his friends, he just wanted to hold his arms out and be hugged. He wanted to feel <em> loved </em>. He wasn’t special, he didn’t deserve to feel content, let alone loved. But he wanted it so badly, it was painful and he sobbed. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I don’t know what to do without you, </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I don’t know where to put my hands.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I’ve been trying to lay my head down </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Fuck, he needed to edit. He was so behind on his work, he needed his video to be done by tomorrow. He was exhausted, and the stress made him cry harder as he turned on his computer. He just wanted to sleep even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to. Work shouldn’t have felt as much of a chore for him as it did. He wouldn't have anything without it and he was extremely grateful for his career, but he was just <em>so </em>tired. As his fingers slowly manoeuvred the mouse and the keys, he felt so lethargic. This would be so much better if everything was just over with. It would be so much easier if he was gone and it would be so easy to just do it. </p><p> </p><p>His fingers were still trembling as he clipped parts of the video he was editing. His headache made him feel like his eyebrows were constantly furrowed, the tension in his forehead blatantly apparent. He leaned his head on his right hand, the cold tips of his fingers soothe him a bit. The faster he finished the faster he could lay in his bed. He was letting everyone down. He was likely letting Dream and Sapnap down the most considering these were videos he filmed with them. When he finally finished, his energy depleted, and he crawled into bed with his phone. He blinked out a few more tears in the dark of his room. Guilt consumed him and he was the only one to blame. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I don’t think I could stand to be  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>They deserved a lot better than he gave them.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Where you don’t see me </em>
</p><p> </p><p> He just wished he didn’t have to feel this way.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Line Eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Is it better to sleep if there are consequences or be exhausted all the time.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tw for implied past SH</p>
<p>I'm tired, too</p>
<p>I work at my own pace, sorry if that bothers you.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s just that I fell in love with a war</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Nobody told me it ended.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He jolted, awakened suddenly, sitting up immediately with his head in his hands. Flashes of images that afflicted him racked through his brain. Most people didn’t remember their nightmares or even their dreams, there could only be one reason why George remembered them. His lungs rattled shakily as he tried to breathe in. His chest felt constricted, his whole body trembled violently while he was consumed by breathlessness. Air barely inflated his lungs as his endeavour to breathe continued. His arms and hands were numb but he held himself tightly and shut his eyes. These things that he’d remembered over and over and over again weren’t things he wanted to keep reliving. He lived through it once, why did he keep needing to remember what happened. He knew they affected him so why did he need to be reminded that they did.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Right now, he wanted to calm down, he wanted his mind to be clear but </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> hands were around his neck again and </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>hand gripped George’s left arm too hard, in the way he said it hurt him. The sensations made his ears ring, but he knew she wasn’t there. He knows she’s not there but his throat is so tight.  Rope burning, tugging, strangling his jugular would’ve been better than phantom hands, there would’ve been </span>
  <em>
    <span>mental relief </span>
  </em>
  <span>rather than the torment that possessed him. Scratches found their way upon George’s neck, his nails causing dashes of blood to bead and clot. He was trying to get her off of him, he grabbed his own arm, lightly, George knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t there. He knew, but why did he still feel his presence. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t you love me?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes, of course I love you.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No, stop. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He needed to stop thinking, he just needed his mind to be devoid of all thoughts, all memories. He didn’t want to be reminded of anything anymore, he just wanted to stop feeling this way. Anger bubbled in his chest, he began taking steady breaths. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep so easily, he was so stupid to let himself rest when he knew it wouldn’t be peaceful. Quickly, he pulled his hood over his head as his breathing finally stabilized. He pulled the drawstrings just enough for it to be slightly tightened. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dream probably would’ve told him he looked like an idiot. He blinked wetly as tears surfaced to his eyes. Maybe it was better to think about Dream than anything else. Well, it was a waste of both of their time. Neither his feelings nor his friendship with the blonde would ever amount to anything, it left apathy settling in his skin. They’d been friends for years and now Dream finally began to grow tired of George. He knew it would happen, he knew it’d come, but he wasn’t ready for it. He bit his lip, truthfully, he expected Dream to leave him sooner. When he became successful on YouTube, he understood it was coming soon, but Dream held on for another year. It was agonizing to realize, to think, to hold on to the fact that his favourite person, his best friend was going to leave him. He’d known he wasn’t good enough but he clung to Dream and Sapnap, he clings to them because he has hope. But George is self-aware, and he knows he loves them even if they might not love him back. He lays down and clings to his pillow. George knows that they could leave him, </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>and he’d let them</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>because he doesn’t deserve them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>——————</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sunlight leaked into George’s eyes as he rolled over to face the window. Buzzing came from under his pillow, he blinked for a while before slipping his hand under. Puzzled, he didn’t answer Wilbur’s discord call. He quickly opened the app and messaged Will a simple ‘hi? I just woke up,’ in confusion. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and checked the time, it was almost three PM. How the hell did he sleep so long, his head already aches. His phone began buzzing again and his head throbbed in the same pattern his heart palpitated. He swiped open the call,</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello?” His voice was grumbly like gravel. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god. Hi,” Will’s tone was higher than usual.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you need something? I just woke up,” George’s voice became smaller as the insecurity crept in. It was three in the afternoon and he was still waking up. His gaze wandered to his window and he grimaced, flashes of his nightmares quaked his mind and sharpened his headache. Something inside him urged him to tell Wilbur about the memories. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just that, Niki and I were worried about you.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, did he say something stupid?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did I… did I do something wrong?” It felt like he was shrinking under his covers. He was only so small, he wanted to be small enough that no one could see him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No! No, um, Niki watched your steam last night,” the silence painfully rang through George’s ears, “you just said some things and I think we both got a bit worried. I watched the vod when I woke up this morning. You didn’t reply to our messages or any pings in the SMP discord, so I panicked and the others in the discord server probably think I’m crazy,” Will laughed nervously yet wholeheartedly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>His stream. </span>
  </em>
  <span>George forgot he even streamed last night, he didn’t want to remember what happened, he just wanted to sleep until he forgot what day it was. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dream had berated him in front of forty thousand people. His face began to flush as he cringed. It was embarrassing to think that people actually witnessed Dream and him fighting like that. George remembered he managed to make himself seem fine enough. All he wanted to do was cry, but he was so undeserving and that would be so childish of him. He wanted to tell Will about his nightmare, but that would be too selfish of him. It made George even more tired when he brushed his hand over the raised scratches on his neck.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It's just that I fell in love with a war.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, sorry if I said anything stupid,” he really wants to tell him. “Umm, y’know I-,” but he shouldn’t, “uhh yeah.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm? You were talking about my album and you mentioned La Jolla and Jubilee Line. You know what those songs allude to, right?” Of course, he did, he said he related to them. The implications have been a part of him for months, like the white lines on his right wrist. Maybe he was like a sloth, but instead, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to grab his own arm and fall like an angel falling down to a scorching hell, but he was tired. He was so damn tired, he needed Wilbur off his case, now. He decided to play dumb, he was still half asleep so he slurred out a small</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, nothing. Maybe you should go back to sleep?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, bye Will.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait! Uh, could you, could you stay on call with me?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“As long as you're quiet,” George mumbled, Wilbur chuckled softly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” he muted himself on discord, and George rolled over to his side. Content with listening to the white noise of the call, he fell back asleep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Nobody told me it ended.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>pov two ppl in ur discord server try to talk u out of offing urself when ur in 19 lololol bruv plz don't care about me I've made up mind, I don't want to live that long.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Saline Solution</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After the call, Wilbur streams.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Darkness crept into the corners of the white-walled room, floating through the window as the sun set. Wilbur’s smile felt as warm as his white sweater when he glanced over at his stream chat. He had finished doing his SMP lore and wanted to play a different game. Desperate for the freshness of summer, he loaded up Fall Guys. Wilbur hadn’t played the game that much, but other streamers had and it seemed like a lot of fun. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Hi, chat. I’m going to switch things around now, maybe, uhh, lighten the mood a bit. Y'know what? I miss summer! I’m sure none of you actually like being in school, so let’s go back to simpler times and play Fall Guys!” The corner of his mouth twitched as he stared into the eyes of his second monitor, positive responses filled the chat, he wasn’t expecting his viewers to be on board. Wilbur scrolled through the characters, two, in particular, catching his eye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Guys,” he giggled, smiling the way he always did, looking like an idiot. “Should I be the hot dog or the Mother Hen?” He switched between both skins to show his fans, “Mods, please run a poll!” Leaning back in his chair, he felt good. Recently, things were going well for him. There was always the initial stress of the Dream SMP lore but Wilbur had been handling it well. The summer had melted away along with the tears dripping down the spaces between long fingers. Bitterness had consumed his mornings and numbness had blurred the evenings. He missed summer, it truly had slipped out of his hands, even though he produced content and released an album, he hadn’t felt like summer, he hadn’t been mentally well. Although he wasn’t entirely patient he could wait for the time to come around, again. The soft smile and sigh he let out reminded him that he could now catch up, he could experience his absences with content. He wasn’t going to leave himself in the dust as a product of his own self-destruction. Things were better now, he was determined to maintain his mental stability. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Saline Solution</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Chat! Calm down, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>be the hot dog, it literally </span>
  <em>
    <span>won</span>
  </em>
  <span> the poll!” Maybe he was loud, but he had energy and he was in a good mood. Blue and pink hues illuminated Wilbur’s profile as the obstacle course began. His eyebrows shot up, he realized he actually had no idea how to play. “I DON’T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING! HOW DO I GO?”  The chat spammed ‘WASD.’ “‘WASD?’” He pressed the ‘w’ key and his character started wobbly running forward like a small child. “Guys, I’m doing it! I might as well have already won.” Static rubbed Will’s ears through his headphones, it was off-putting, but he figured it was just the thunderous game audio. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Light had evaded the room by the time he was peeking his eyes open. Shuffling over to his other side to see the window, he blinked his groggy eyes, trying not to fall back asleep. His eyebrows furrowed as he noticed it was dark enough for stars to overflow the sky. Looking down, he noticed his phone, unlocking it sluggishly. Discord immediately opened as his phone did, a green bar and a timestamp of three hours at the top of the screen. Oh right, he had been on a call with somebody. He gently rubbed his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello? Will?” Wilbur jumped in his chair at the mention of his name. Crap, he was live. George was still disoriented, not having woken up at all yet. Wilbur rushed to unmute himself in the discord call, freezing the stream on Fall Guys.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“George! Hi, did I wake you up? I was being quite loud.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were muted, silly,” he mumbled, “I just woke up, What time is it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s just six PM. Um, I’m live, playing Fall Guys,” Wilbur hesitated, “Would you be up to join me?” George stilled, he thought for a second. He didn’t really have anything better to do, besides posting the video he edited the previous night, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure, I’ll play. Just give me a second.” After an “alright” from Will, George shuffled out of bed, feeling slightly colder. They both muted themselves in the call, Wilbur probably talking to his chat. George sauntered to his chair, not bothering to change out of his gray sweats and merch hoodie. The computer screen flashed awake, he immediately went to his editing software and downloaded the video he finished last night. Quickly, uploading the file to YouTube, he published the video. It would’ve been better to upload after steaming with Will, but considering he’d slept until six PM he didn’t want to be any more disappointing to his followers and Dream. Launching Fall Guys, he joined the discord call from his PC. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” god, George is so awkward sometimes. Wilbur unmuted, the ping coming through George’s mic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Will sounded giddy, but he didn’t mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What character should I be?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure, do whatever you want, Gogy,” Will laughed. He glanced over to his chat to see them spamming ‘MOTHER HEN.’ “Wait, wait! Go to the– scroll to the Mother Hen skin!” George scoffed out a giggle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cause I’m the hot dog! And chat chose between the two!” George gave another scoff with a smile, he opened a chrome tab to open Wilbur’s stream chat. He opened the chat and typed a ‘:(.’ “Why don’t you have me VIP-ed in your chat? I am disappointed.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’M SORRY, I don’t stream that often, I didn’t realize.” Wilbur quickly opened his stream labs, “if I mod you, too, will that make you happier?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes it would, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wilbur,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he added the American accent, hearing the other man giggle. George reopened the game and changed his player’s skin to be the chicken. “Okay, Will’s chat. You can now call me ‘Mother’, I have changed to be the rooster.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“George,” Will started dying of laughter, “it’s a chicken, it's not a rooster.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Same thing–,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One is female and the other is a male–,” Wilbur leaned back in his chair, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I get it, you have an IQ of one thousand,” George scoffed light-heartedly, “let’s just okay the game, okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay.” They started the first level with the rest of the random players. “HOW DO I MOVE, WHAT CONTROLS?” George laughed at Wilbur’s panic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have to use the WASD keys, and then it’s F to grab.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘F to grab’? Who the fuck am I grabbing?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s a level where you have, like, tails and you have to grab other people’s tails and try not to lose your own.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s a level where we’re FURRIES?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not furries!” George laughed, “It’s like American flag football.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fundy would love this game!” Wilbur exclaimed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, would he?” George played along. His character was running forward, getting closer to the finish line.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes he would–,” he saw George’s little chicken skin in front of him, “–oh, wait! Is that you? Is this you, George?” He grabbed onto the hen in front of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, let go! We’re running out of time!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re going on a timer?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” George laughed as their characters ran forward, Wilbur’s hot dog still clinging to the back of George’s skin. “Oh my god, we’re not going to make it, we’re not going to make it!” Wilbur stopped moving, keeping his grasp on George.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur, what are you doing?! We have to go!” Wilbur cackled leaning over to the side in his chair, “WILL!” George screeched, both of them getting eliminated. “Wilbur, what the hell,” George whined lightheartedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Gogy,” Sitting up straighter, a devilish smile continued to lace Wilbur’s face. They joined a new game, waiting for enough players to join to start. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you did that to me, I could’ve finished!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t want to finish with me? ‘Fuck, I can’t believe you’ve done this.’” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We would’ve finished together either way! You wouldn’t let go of me, besides, I wouldn’t leave you; I’m not Dream!” George tensed, Wilbur laughed, thinking George was referencing the SMP lore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you kept up with that, Gogy!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I watch most streams, I’m not sleeping </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> the time.” George got lucky with Will’s misinterpretation. The game finally was full, and the first level began. “This time, don’t screw us over, let’s try to make it through the first game!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay, fine! But you have to help me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will help you, why did you even decide to play without learning the controls?” George retaliated. All players lined up at the starting line.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I went in, and I thought; I am an independent woman, I can do this.” George laughed at his idiocy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Independent </span>
  <em>
    <span>woman</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Okay, Will, okay.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m sorry, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mother Hen</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Mother </span>
  <em>
    <span>George</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Wilbur’s gaze travelled to his chat, his viewers immediately spamming ‘MOTHER GEORGE.’ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stupid Glizzy,” George rebutted. Wilbur gasped, affronted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“GOGY! That’s not very kind,” he responded, his character wobbling forwards as the game began.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay–,” he laughed, “I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I forgive you, but just for that,” he found George’s skin again and held f, “I’m not letting go of you until we get to the end!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pfft– okay, but don’t slow us down.” They ran past rotating cylinders with extending arms, one barely scraping Wilbur’s avatar. “Oh my god, this is so intense.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just keep leading the way, Gogy. Have you played this game before?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I actually have, I streamed it twice, I think. Once after MCC, and once right before Dream’s fight with Technoblade.” He was going to miss all those memories he made with the boy from Florida, especially if he really was going to leave George. His chicken skin trying to jump over a bump in the platform but Wilbur wasn’t budging, “what are you doing? Move!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Press space to jump! Hurry!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME IN THE BEGINNING?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought it was self-explanatory! What happened to your one thousand IQ?” Wilbur burst out laughing at George’s remark, they both crossed the finish line. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, we did it, did we win?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, we didn’t win. We still have stages to go through.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay Georgenotfound, I thought you’d be more helpful,” Wilbur jokes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sorry. I’ll try harder.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no I’m kidding!” Concern was concealed under a soft grin, sometimes it was annoying to do face cam streams but it was also easier to keep people engaged. “How do I play this next game?” Wilbur asked as the countdown to the second stage began. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s like TNT run on Hypixel,” George explained, “so don’t hold onto me or we’re going to fall.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What if I want us to fall, George?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why would you want us to fall?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Cause you said we only had to get through the first level.”  George’s laughter came through his headphones.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I meant,” George giggled, “and you know it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Wilbur, I love seeing you on the SMP more often,” Text to speech suddenly came through Wilbur’s headphones. He rapidly deafened in the discord call to answer the large donation. “Were you and George sleep calling?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for the hundred dollars, LeilaInnit, uh, yeah we were, I’m glad you like my work.” He briskly returned to the call, he always liked spending time with George. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, fine, I will do my best for you, Gogy.” The game started, all the players ran in different directions. Wilbur and George were still on the top layer of pentagons. George was sauntering around trying to take as much time being on a pentagon before moving onto the next.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Make sure you- make sure you don’t fall–,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“AHHHH,” Wilbur’s scream caused George to flinch out of his focus, “I fell!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You died?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I fell to the second platform-thing!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you do, DON’T fall off of that one!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“George, I’m going to fall.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said don’t!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m TRYING!” The last few players fell off and the timer ran out. “Oh my god, I did it. I did it, George, I did it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I knew you’d be fine, you’re just dramatic.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dramatic?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m kidding,” George laughed, “or am I?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow, George,” Will played along, “getting feisty, are we?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Feisty? What do you mean?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Gogy. You’re so funny.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, shut up,” George smiled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, is this the Furry one?” The next level had brought them to a small arena, “how do I do this one?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have to run around and make sure you have a tail but other people can take your tail. If you lose your tail you have to grab someone else’s.” The game began and George was immediately lost. Lavender, Purple, Blue, and Green were the four-team colours. Players started running around, grabbing tails. “Will, what colour am I? What colour am I?” George panicked. Purple and blue looked just about the same colour, lavender a slightly lighter looking blue. Wilbur absolutely lost it, laughing harder than he was before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re both purple, Gogy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Which one is that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The one on the left?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Which left?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The one all the way on the left!” Wilbur silently kept giggling, his attention completely cut from the game.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur, what are you doing? We’re losing!” Wilbur laughed even harder, covering his mouth, leaning back in his chair. “WILL!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I– I fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t! </span>
  </em>
  <span>I can’t!” Tears sprung to his eyes, he was now audibly laughing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is bullying, you’re making fun of my colourblindness!” George argued, trying to grab other players' tails, wanting to win the game. Wilbur suffocated from laughter until the last ten seconds of the game, he took deep breaths, a stupid smile on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay, I’m grabbing people’s tails now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur, there’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>seven </span>
  </em>
  <span>seconds left!” Will started chuckling again, they got eliminated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he grinned, “if we play again, I’ll win. Just for you, Gogy.” His chest rose in a short breath. “Well thank you, chat, for coming to my stream today, but I’ve got to say that’s all for today.” The smile remained on his face, he felt warm and content. “Thanks, George, for joining as well, stick around and let’s talk. Bye chat!” He waved goodbye and promptly ended his stream</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Saline Solution</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi George,” Wilbur paused, “thank you, so much, for coming on my stream today. I genuinely had a really good time.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Wilbur, I did too.” He sighed, Wilbur was a good person. The one thing George didn’t like about him was that he could never tell if Will would cut him off. Drifting away from people was a pattern Wilbur was vastly familiar with. When his fear and anxiety came to pluck at his brain, Will became distant, quickly. George often pondered upon staying his friend. Wilbur, honestly, was a good person. George cared a lot for him, and the other reciprocated. Staying with Will was completely worth it, he would never purposely hurt George, if he did, George probably deserved it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you sleep okay last night? You woke up awfully late.” Wilbur was too nice to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did, I slept maybe an hour after streaming, I woke up at some point but I went back to sleep after. Did you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did, I slept at ten and woke up at eight-thirty. After I woke up I watched your stream from last night. Are you and Dream doing okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, we’re perfectly fine,” maybe, most likely not. “Have you been doing okay?” Wilbur smiled with a gentle sigh, he felt soft hearing the concern from the other man. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Actually, I’ve been doing a lot better recently. My anxiety isn’t as bad as it was and I’ve found really good coping mechanisms for myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good to hear, Will, that really is.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for staying on call with me, I honestly don’t think I’d have as much fun without you. Um, I’m going to go get dinner, now, I’ll talk to you later. Bye, George!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bye, Wilbur.” The call disconnected. Leaning back in his chair, he looked to the ceiling in frustration. He palmed his forehead, trying to ease the tension.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Saline Solution </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>People like Will made him wonder who he’d have left when everybody abandoned him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To all your problems</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Did you know Wilbur wrote this song about being a hypochondriac? Anyway, most of this album means nothing to him anymore and it's ours so just ignore the actual song meaning lol.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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